


Infernal Burden

by TheSailingRabbit



Category: Alien Series, Alien: Isolation (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Drama, F/M, Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSailingRabbit/pseuds/TheSailingRabbit
Summary: Ten years before the events on Sevastopol, Marshal Waits's career is already long and varied. Life on LV-112's colony seems to be the most uneventful, with the most action happening in Weyland-Yutani's new headquarters and Waits's personal life. What Waits doesn't expect is an alien attack that makes Sevastopol look like a walk in the park.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

_LV-112, 2180_

Dew sparkled on each blade of grass as sunlight continued to rise and spill through the clouds dotting the pink sky. The grass gently waved in the wind, covering the ground like a soft green blanket. There were spots where it dipped suddenly into large divots and craters.

Kneeling by one of the craters, Lieutenant Scott Gorman adjusted the collar of his jacket, pulling up the zipper to keep out the cold. He released his breath, watching it dissipate into the icy morning air, then pulled a laminated photograph from one of his pockets, holding it up to match the horizon ahead.

The photo contained the same landscape; a long field rolling down into an expansive forest, trees on either side, twisted fruit bushes sticking up from the grass. The same shade of green was there, though less prevalent in the photo. The photo was less serene. Smoking craters and black marks decimated the landscape. Military personnel were tending to wounded civilians and Marshals. Whatever had happened was over, but the aftermath lingered, and would linger for a long time.

The landscape had done its healing after 53 years. Gorman could see the craters and divots went on for miles. He knew there were holes in the forest where trees once stood, destroyed by either the Dheldroi bombers or USCM missiles. It went on to the outermost reaches of the colony. Young trees were growing inside the craters.

The colony itself had done its healing as well. Everything destroyed had been rebuilt. Most structures were fitted with materials that would better resist a similar attack. Backup communication systems were in place. Things it probably should have had beforehand. Then again, all intelligence suggested LV-112's sector of space was secure, and no one had anticipated an attack from an enemy they had never encountered before.

Gorman slid the photo back in his pocket, and turned to walk back to the busier parts of the colony, passing by a lot full of Willys and Blazers with off-road features meant for driving through areas that remained unpaved. Very few vehicles had survived the attack. The rest either had to be rebuilt or scrapped.

He approached a Blazer bearing the symbol of the Marshals on its doors. A woman with a heavy jacket looked at him from the driver's seat. "Seen everything, Lieutenant?" she asked.

"Everything I can," Gorman replied. "Except Uncle Jethro's records."

"They should be done compiling those for you if we head back now." The Marshal waited until Gorman was in the passenger seat. "We don't get a lot of people doing family research. You're probably the first."

"The LV-510 Marshals have been helping me out a lot, but they're still working on the records. Waits was stationed there several times. I lost count of how many years he spent there."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't he reject the offer of being Head on LV-112?"

"I'm not sure. He became department head on LV-510 after. Only thing I know is that he didn't want to come back here."

"Almost the entire staff was decimated. They had to bring in new people and pull experienced Marshals from other colonies to get this place back on its feet. I don't think the Marines left orbit for several months."

Gorman nodded. "Then again, if it hadn't happened, Cetii Epsilon IV would've been a much different story. The intel from here proved valuable."

"You had a better idea of what you were up against."

"Yeah." Gorman took a breath. "Nothing ever prepares you for some of the things you see, though."

"That'll always be true."

Conversation dwindled as they approached Marshal Headquarters. The woman turned to face Gorman as he got out of the truck. "I just thought of something, based on what you were saying earlier."

"What?" Gorman asked.

"You think if Waits stayed here, he wouldn't have been sent to Sevastopol?"

Blood drained from Gorman's face. _I hadn't thought of that before._ He looked down at the ground, then back up at the Marshal. "I can't be sure, but I wish I could be."

* * *

_LV-112, 2127_

There was nothing to do but watch a small satellite dish spin on a roof and pinkish sky give way to blue that morning. It was quiet, aside from the birds and farm machinery starting up several miles away, beyond the dense green forest that surrounded the colony.

A cup of coffee in one hand and a half-spent cigarette in the other, Marshal Jethro Waits had seen this same type of morning for the last two months. LV-112 had pleasant summers and harsh winters. It only recently became warm enough for him to sit outside the metal box they were calling apartments.

The civilians had it better. It would be a decade or two before they began building larger apartment complexes, but the current setup was as nice as a suburban house back on Earth. The Marshals had their own apartments, but the setup was similar to a military base—small compartments, few commodities, not very attractive.

Each compartment had room for a kitchen, a very small living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The lighting was generally poor, and Waits didn't hesitate to install more lightbulbs throughout the compartment.

"You sure you want to spend the money, Waits?" another Marshal had asked.

"I like to see where I'm pissing at night," Waits replied.

No further questions were asked. Waits liked his privacy, and he was content with the small space, aside from the fact that it did a piss-poor job of keeping cold air out during the winter. Now that the planet's northern hemisphere was entering its summer, that was less of an issue.

Waits leaned back on the bench, looking at his watch. Half-an-hour till he needed to clock in for duty. Plenty of time to just finish his coffee, enjoy the sunrise, observe the local wildlife. Of course, this was the time of year when songbirds were at their loudest at the ungodly hour of 0400, and Waits's compartment was right next to the edge of the woods. A free concert every morning.

After finishing his coffee, Waits placed his mug in the dishwasher before dumping in some detergent and closing it. _I'll sort the dishes when I get back later._ He adjusted his jacket before leaving, and locked the door behind him. It was a relatively short walk to headquarters—at least it felt short now; in winter, it was hell, and Waits quickly grew sick of jokes among the other Marshals about how "the old man was probably going to slip on the ice and break his hip some morning." The old man being him.

Waits didn't consider himself old at 49, though the next number up was 50. Despite that, he wasn't planning on retiring anytime soon. A part of him liked being the foul-mouthed stubborn old man of Marshal Headquarters, even though several of the other Marshals didn't.

As he walked into the business district of the colony, Waits looked down a crude street of small establishments. Some were still under construction, while others had been completed long before Waits was assigned to the planet eight months ago. The colony had a long way to go, but it was on the road to success as a permanent settlement.

Stepping out of a crosswalk, Waits turned when he saw someone jogging over to him. A dark-haired man in a rumpled black suit, holding a folder. "Marshal! Marshal Waits!" he was calling.

"What?" Waits asked, pulling a carton of cigarettes from his pocket.

Out of breath, Torben Wiecher stopped in front of him, opening the folder. "I need your opinion on something, sir. There are plans for—shit."

A gust of wind threw the papers from the folder. Wiecher thrust the folder into Waits's hands as he tried to grab the papers flying everywhere.

"I can see you're off to a great start today," Waits said, opening the carton with his teeth.

"Well, I was." Wiecher took the papers back, attempting to sort them. "What I was trying to say is that we drew up the plans for the Weyland-Yutani office building not that long ago and I want your thoughts."

"Nobody wants my thoughts, son."

"I do. Specifically on where the entrances and exits are, that way your people can get in if there's an emergency."

"No, no, no. What you should be more worried about is nutjobs trying shred you and the rest of your colleagues with bullets or explosives or whatever the fuck they can get their paws on. Lemme see those fucking blueprints."

Without a word, Wiecher handed over the blueprints. "I'll take this to my supervisors for review—"

"No, your supervisors are going to implement whatever I say. This isn't an aesthetic issue here. This is about making your fancy-shmancy office building as safe as possible."

"Okay, sir."

Waits folded the blueprints. "I'll look over these later. Gotta go clock in."

"When can I expect to hear back from you, sir?"

"Later."

"When is 'later?'"

"I don't know."

* * *

Waits stepped into the LV-112 Marshal Bureau to see Lace Aslett sitting at one of the desks. She was looking down at a series of papers in a folder, oddly similar to those Wiecher gave him.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Aslett said, not looking up.

"Bite my ass," Waits replied.

"Nah, maybe some other day. Seriously, Jethro, did you get any sleep last night?"

"If you people would let me shoot the damn birds, I'd be able to get some sleep."

"Do the birds really bother you that much?"

"Yes."

"Well, you know you're never going to get permission to shoot the birds. Sorry."

"I'm gonna keep trying."

Aslett rolled her eyes when Waits wasn't looking. "So, other than bird trouble, what's new with you?"

"Nothing." Waits put a paper cup under the coffee maker, pressing a button. Nothing came out. "Lace, why isn't this thing—"

"You need to put more grounds and water in it. We've been over this."

"Maybe we should get a bigger coffee maker."

"Maybe you can buy a bigger coffee maker."

"I have a bigger coffee maker." Waits dumped a spoonful of grounds into the coffee maker.

"Then bring your own coffee—BYOC."

Waits snorted. "Smartass."

Aslett smirked. "And the only one who's found a way to tolerate you. Just drink your coffee so you can be a bit more pleasant, Jethro."

Waits grinned. Without looking, he stuck his card into a machine on the wall next to the water cooler, then swiped. "Alright, what do we have for the day?"

"Not much. They sent the blueprints for the Weyland-Yutani office to us for review."

"If they already sent them, why'd Wiecher give a set to me?" Waits sat on the edge of Aslett's desk.

"Good question. He's always had this impression you were the boss."

"I wish I was."

"And I'd get a ticket outta here."

"You wouldn't. I'd name you deputy."

"Oh, now you're just being a sap. Anyway, we gotta get these reviewed and sent back before five tonight. I'll put these on Brooks's desk."

"So, that's it, huh." Waits poured fresh coffee into his cup. "Paperwork. Nothing exciting."

"Nope." Aslett slid the blueprints back into the folder. "Sorry."

"Eh, I'm not surprised. Nothing exciting's happened since I got here." Waits returned to Aslett's desk.

"Given how long you've been serving, haven't you seen it all?"

"I don't think so. I haven't seen a colony with this many unpaved roads."

"LV-109 is worse than this. It's all sand, and everything that was paved is now covered in it."

Waits snorted. "At least I can use the 'too old' excuse to get out of shoveling."

"Yeah, that'll help you keep avoiding retirement."

"And how old are you?"

"Forty. Younger than you."

"Hey, at least you haven't started going gray. Yet."

Aslett glared at him.

"What?"

"I'm going to tell you a secret."

"Oh?"

She nodded, then leaned to whisper. "I've been dyeing my hair for about two years."

"Your whole head?"

"No, just my temples. You're the only person I know who isn't going to tell everyone."

"Thanks. Good to know you trust me."

Their conversation was interrupted by a man stepping out of the stairway. He sighed when he saw Waits and Aslett together. "Hey, where're those blueprints from the Weyland-Yutani office building?"

"On my desk, Brooks," Aslett said. "Was gonna give them to you, but then grumpy came in."

"Right." Brooks gave Waits a look. "Before you ask, no, you're not getting permission to shoot the birds at four in the morning. You'll scare the residents and piss off the scientists."

"Who gives a flying fuck about the scientists?" Waits grunted. "They can find more birds somewhere else. _Far away_ from my bedroom window."

"You know the rules. No hunting until after they finish their initial studies."

"They take forever. And they can bite my ass while they're at it."

Brooks resisted a smile. "At least we know you're normal today, Waits."

Aslett glanced at him. "He didn't get any sleep last night."

"Don't stay up so late at the bar, then."

"It was 'free beer' night," Waits said. "And, give me credit, I didn't get myself smashed."

Aslett tried not to laugh. "Oh, I remember the night you were so hammered I had to drag your ass to your compartment. You were very lucky you were off duty."

"Was that also the night I threw up in your truck?"

"Yes. I still have the stain on my back seat to prove it."

Brooks switched his gaze between the two. "If you two wanna chat so much, why don't you grab a patrol car and head out for a few hours? I got nothing else for you to do."

"Sounds good to me." Waits finished his coffee, and tossed the cup into a garbage can. "Anything's better than sitting around here."

"Does that mean you're driving?" Aslett asked.

"If you want me to."

Standing up, Aslett adjusted her jacket and put on her cap before clipping a holster to her belt. "Just don't drive through the woods like you did last time. I know you miss your truck, but—"

"It's a Blazer. It's meant to go off-road."

"You're gonna be paying for repairs someday."

"Most I'd have to pay for is a wash."

"Please don't roughhouse with our vehicles, Waits," Brooks said, not looking up from the folder of blueprints.

"Fine."

* * *

It was past ten in the morning when Waits and Aslett left the Marshals' parking lot. Most colonists were at their jobs, though some were walking around in the streets, browsing shops.

"I'm kinda surprised it took Weyland this long to get an office building set up here," Aslett said.

"Yeah," Waits replied. "They didn't have much to put into this place, other than certain factory equipment and building materials. No need for the atmospheric processors. They're having a bitch of a time paving with how dense the woods are."

"They're gonna bring in bigger equipment to start moving them. The roots are the biggest issue. That, and they found out fires here can be a lot worse than on Earth."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The leaves and bark are full of an oil that produces a toxic substance when burned. Four Marshals and about twenty workers died in a fire last year, couple months before you arrived."

"I heard about that. I didn't know it was because of a tree oil."

"Yep. Now they're taking precautions and all that fun shit. That's why it's taking them so long to get roads in. Once the roads are in, they're going to install reinforced guardrails so vehicles don't fly into the woods and cause a bigger accident."

"As long as that's our worst worry on this colony. Much rather be concerned about fire than anything else."

"Same."

They left the paved section of the colony and headed onto a dirt road leading toward the farmland. The woods gave way to flat plains, followed by a snow-capped mountain range. Waits glanced over for half-a-second, then kept his eyes on the road. "Have they explored past the mountains?"

"Very little. Aerial survey says about a hundred miles or so of scrubland before you hit the desert. Just dunes and big rocks. Satellites suggested a savanna band a few thousand miles south of it, which means—"

"Tropical rainforest borders it. I know. I passed geography." Waits let out a sigh. "I am not spending a fucking year or more in a start-up colony in the middle of the jungle. There's only so much heat and humidity I can take."

"Weren't you stationed in Netrayas?"

"Yeah. That's different, though; the offices have air conditioning."

They stopped the truck on a hill overlooking one of the larger farms in the colony. A single tractor rolled slowly through the field. Waits glanced at Aslett, a smile crossing his face. "Wanna take the wheel?"

"Oh, we're taking turns?" Aslett took off her seatbelt. "Yeah, I'll drive. Where to?"

Waits shrugged. "I'm perfectly happy just sitting here and enjoying the view."

"On the job?"

"I lost count of how many times I've done this."

"And you've never gotten in trouble?"

"Nope."

Aslett shook her head. "Brave old man."

"I've been serving for a long time. I know my limits."

"How long did it take you to figure that out?"

"In terms of what?"

"Bending the rules."

"Few years. Not even five, I think. I don't even bend the rules that much."

"I've seen you eat in your cubicle."

"And what harm is smuggling a donut or two in my office? That's all I do. I'm not using the handcuffs for kinky shit or taking the guns home or totaling the vehicles."

"The fact that you mentioned the handcuff thing first is a bit concerning."

"I've been serving so long that I've heard a lot of fucked-up stories."

"And how many were you involved in?"

"None. Funny stories, yes, but not fucked-up ones." Waits looked out the window at the farm field, then back at Aslett. "How about you?"

She was silent.

Concern prodded Waits's chest. "Come on, you can talk to me."

"Jethro, I've told you a lot about me, and I trust you, but... maybe another day."

Sighing, Waits shrugged. "Fine."

* * *

Brooks looked up from the blueprints spread in front of him when Waits and Aslett returned. Wiecher was sitting at a desk, along with two other Weyland-Yutani personnel. "Waits, why did you feel the need to frighten everyone with the possibility that someone might attack the new office building?"

"Because you should always prepare for a worst-case scenario," Waits replied. He glared at Wiecher. "You're at my desk, son. Move."

Brooks let out his breath. "Mr. Wiecher, Mr. Neraleth, I'm so sorry for Waits's behavior."

"Not a problem," Naraleth replied. "While I agree with Marshal Waits's assessment, I also want it to be clear that this is a commercial office building and not a military fortress—"

"I never said turn it into a fucking fortress," Waits growled.

"—I'm sure some compromises can be made."

"They can," Brooks replied. He frowned. "Waits, if you're going to be making faces and mocking everyone, then please leave."

"I wasn't mocking anyone," Waits mumbled.

"I just saw you miming Mr. Naraleth!"

Aslett dropped the keys to the patrol Blazer in a container next to Brooks. "Jethro, you do tend to mock people when you think they're not making a good point. Maybe turning around would help."

Waits promptly turned around in his seat.

"As we were saying," Brooks sighed, "It is possible for your alarm systems to contact us if anything were to happen-"

Waits snorted. "Do you have any idea how many fucking false alarms we'd get? That'll get annoying."

Brooks rubbed his face. "That is why we will double and triple check the computer system. Anyway, I can arrange for an alarm system. I can also arrange for Marshals to stand guard if it takes awhile for the system to ship from Earth." He looked at Waits. "That would mean you."

"That raises the excitement level on this planet from 'watching paint dry' to 'watching a fucking bug crawl on the paint while it's drying,'" Waits grunted.

"Exactly, and you're going to watch those bugs crawl on the wall if I tell you to."

"Careful, sir, he might resort to shooting them," Aslett said, grinning.

Waits glared at her. "Now, why would I waste perfectly good bullets on an ant?"

"Because that's your solution for everything that annoys you."

"Is not. I've kept you around, haven't I?"

Brooks cleared his throat. "If you two aren't going to offer anything helpful, I suggest you find something to occupy yourselves. I know LV-112 isn't the most exciting place in the galaxy to be stationed, but that's just how it is. I'm sorry. I also don't appreciate your behavior in front of Mr. Wiecher and Naraleth, and if you say another word, I will discipline both of you."

"Yes, sir," Aslett replied.

"Waits?" Brooks folded his arms over his chest. "Did I make myself clear?"

"You did," Waits said.

"Thank you. You're dismissed."

* * *

_After all I've done, I'm gonna be lowered to an armed doorman._ Waits gave a heavy sigh as he headed down the street. From where he stood, he could see the metal skeleton of the new office building going up. He could appreciate the fact that they weren't at war, weren't constantly fearing for their lives, but he couldn't stand the boredom.

Once off duty, Waits returned to his compartment to change out of his uniform and throw on civilian clothes. The dishwasher had stopped running hours ago, but he told himself he would take care of it when he got back from the bar.

The night air was cool and fresh, though almost too cool for Waits's liking. He pulled up the collar on his jacket, grunting to himself as he left the complex, heading into the business district of the colony. The street was illuminated with lights. It almost felt like home. Almost. It still felt incomplete.

Waits could hear music coming from the bar as he approached. Through the window, he could see half of the people inside were dancing, and the other half were at the counter. He spotted Aslett among those seated at the counter, and shrugged before deciding he would join her. His thoughts turned to earlier, when she refused to tell him what her story was. _I've known her for a few months, and she's not a bad person. What could she have done that she's ashamed of?_

He cleared his throat before taking the seat. "Hey. Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead," Aslett said, setting her glass down. "Bit surprised you're not being your grumpy old self at home."

Waits shrugged. "Figured I'd be better off being grumpy around other people."

A slight smirk crossed Aslett's face. "Sure. Spread the joy."

"I am anything but joy."

The two fell silent shortly before Waits received a bottle of beer and a freshly cleaned mug, and he let his thoughts take over while he sipped. He glanced at Aslett, then sighed. "So... anything on your mind?"

"Not really."

"Okay." Waits took another drink. "I'm not particularly happy about getting assigned to that office building when it's complete."

"You should've kept your mouth shut, then."

"Maybe. But I wasn't wrong about anything, was I?"

"No, but that doesn't mean you act like your usual self in front of the Weyland-Yutani people."

"What's done is done."

"Jethro, you do realize that the more you mouth off to people, the more likely that Command is gonna force you to retire before you want to, right?"

Waits didn't respond. "They'd have to strip my uniform from me and drag me out."

Aslett shook her head. "Somehow, deep down, I think you'd be able to retire without being a pain to everyone involved. Don't you want to just... live the rest of your life in peace?"

"That basically means I'd be alone. I can't do that for the next fifty or so years. That's half my life."

"I thought you were on good terms with your sister."

"I am. It's her husband that gives me shit. It's not easy for me to get her alone, especially since she's got a kid."

"Your nephew, right? I remember you telling me about him." Aslett finished her drink. "Do I even have to guess why your sister's husband doesn't like you?"

"Well, it's not because I'm an asshole. It's because I'm never home. He thinks I shouldn't make an attempt to be around Micah if I'm not going to be home long enough for him to remember me."

"So, he's the petty type, huh."

"Yeah."

"Does your nephew remember you?"

"Somewhat. Doesn't help that his father talks a lotta shit about me. Also doesn't help that I got into a fight during Micah's sixth birthday."

"Nice job."

"Thanks."

Aslett fell quiet for a moment. "It could've been worse, though."

"Yeah. There's that." Waits finished his drink, setting the empty mug down. "Who knows? Brooks could change his mind when that damn building goes up."

"No. Brooks does not easily forget anything. Trust me. He remembers every parking ticket he issued when he first became an officer, and he doesn't exactly appreciate how you behave toward him."

"I've been nicer to him than most of my superiors in the past. He's a lot more competent."

"You still act like he's way too young to be Head Marshal. And there's a reason you've never been a Head Marshal."

A sudden pang, like a needle, manifested in Waits's chest. "Let's not go there."

"You're not exactly leadership material—"

"I said, drop it! You've never served with me on any other fucking colony! We've only known each other for a few months, and you've never been with me during a crisis, so don't you _ever_ fucking assume I'm not leadership material!"

"I get your point, Jethro, there's no need for you to yell!"

"There was no need for you to point out I've never been a Head Marshal." Waits slid his money in the bartender's direction. "Good night."


	2. Chapter 2

Fog and mist lazily swirled around Waits as he trekked through the woods early the next morning. He knew he could be alone in his compartment, but had been craving a long walk for some time. The last time he went out was a few days after Christmas. It was bitterly cold and everything was a dingy shade of gray. A thick layer of ice and snow covered the tree branches. He didn't get very far, and had spent the rest of the day trying to warm back up.

He could go farther today. The weather was more favorable with summer around the corner.

"I just had to open my mouth last night," Waits muttered to himself. "Just had to."

He always spoke what was on his mind, and he had never met someone who was able to match his brutal honesty. Aslett's company was something he didn't think he could afford to lose. What were the odds that he could meet someone who not only tolerated him, but acted just like him?

She was more reserved than him, though. While he was perfectly comfortable speaking his mind whenever he pleased, she held back in the presence of her superiors. She never held back in front of him, and Waits saw that as a sign of trust. He knew Aslett was being honest when she said that he wasn't leadership material, and he knew that wasn't just her opinion. On any day of the week, he would rather have her say what she thought than have her lie for the sake of his feelings.

Waits paused at a cliffside overlooking the same farm he and Aslett stopped at the day before. He sighed, leaning against a tree. No one was out in the field that morning. Everything was quiet aside from the birds. They weren't as bad when Waits wasn't trying to sleep. He sat on a rock jutting out next to a tree, feeling sun spilling in through the leaves above.

 _I've been serving for over thirty years, and Lace is right; I haven't gotten a leadership position because I'm a pain-in-the-ass. Somehow, I've remained in service because I'm good at what I do. I'm just not good enough to do more._ Waits picked up a small stone, pitching it off the cliff. _Everyone's just waiting for me to get too old so they can be rid of me._

He turned when he heard someone coming up the path, and stood, not wanting a civilian to see him looking vulnerable. He relaxed a little when he saw Aslett. "'Morning," he said.

"Good to see you've cooled off from last night," Aslett replied, not returning the greeting.

That stung a little. "Look, am I allowed to apologize?"

"Yeah, you can apologize. I'd appreciate it."

"Good, because I wouldn't know what to do if you didn't accept it."

Aslett weakly smiled. "In that case, I should apologize for pushing your buttons last night."

"That's very mature of you. Thanks."

"No problem. It's hard to stay mad at you." Aslett gestured to the path. "Wanna do some jogging?"

"Me? Jogging?" Waits made a face. "I'm _old_ , remember? You said it yourself. I'll hurt myself if I jog."

"Not if you're careful and take it slow. Come on. Don't be an old man, Jethro." Aslett patted Waits's arm, then grabbed his wrist to tug him along.

Waits sighed before pulling his arm away and trying to keep up with her. He hadn't done any jogging in awhile, and it didn't take very long for his chest to start hurting.

He kept going, though. He liked seeing Aslett happy.

* * *

"I'm not going back into the colony until I don't sound like I'm gonna cough a lung up," Waits wheezed, half-slumped against a tree.

"Well, don't sit. Keep walking," Aslett instructed. She took his arm, trying to pull him up. "Give yourself some credit—you did pretty good. Almost three miles nonstop."

Waits moaned as he forced himself to stand. "I don't know how anyone can do this regularly."

"Most people who jog regularly don't look like you right now."

"Good for them."

Aslett gently pushed Waits forward. "Come on, keep walking, and breathe."

Grunting, Waits followed Aslett back down the path. "Okay, this is gonna be a long walk."

"As long as you don't collapse, we'll get back to the colony in no time." Aslett glanced at Waits over her shoulder. "And, I'll pay for your lunch as a thank-you for joining me."

"Aw, you don't have to do that."

"No, but I will anyway. It was nice having a partner today."

"Even if that partner can't jog for shit?"

"Yeah." Aslett paused to let Waits catch up, then she smirked. "What, you don't think I enjoy your company?"

"I know you enjoy my company. I'd assumed that people who exercise prefer to do so with someone who's not gonna slow them down."

"I'd rather exercise with a supportive friend. You know I used to coach physical training for new Marshals, right?"

"Yeah, you've told me." Waits took a breath, steadily feeling his heartrate return to normal. His throat and lungs still felt dry. "You miss it?"

"Little bit. Wasn't the most exciting thing in the world."

"Being stationed here isn't exactly exciting, either."

"I used to be on LV-510. Netrayas department."

"Ah. Same as me. When?"

"Two years ago. Then I was sent here."

"Feels like a downgrade, doesn't it?"

Aslett fell silent. "No. Not really. I haven't really... seen action, like you have. I wasn't trapped on a space station for a week."

Waits felt an anxious knot form in his stomach. "No, you weren't, and be glad you weren't. I don't want to go through that again."

"Honestly, I'd think going through that would make you grateful for more quiet assignments."

"In some ways, it does, but I was trapped because I was making sure every last civvie got off that station. I'd rather do that than do nothing."

"See, that's one thing I don't understand about you—you're incredibly grouchy, you're rude, foul-mouthed, generally unpleasant, and yet you care deeply about others. You're not interested in money or women. You're not interested in power. You act like you don't care about anyone, but you do in your own... gruff way." Aslett shrugged, and gave Waits a confused look. "How does that work?"

"Oh, I have no fucking idea. I've been like this for as long as I can remember. I knew I'd never function in a regular career, and this was about five years before the Colonial Marines were formed, so I went for the next best thing that could get me far away from home and prove my worth." Waits drew in another breath, starting to feel moisture returning to his lungs. "And what's your story? Didn't you tell me you went in at eighteen?"

"I did. Got a rushed marriage at twenty. Had my daughter at twenty-one—"

"You didn't tell me you have a daughter."

"Yeah. Now you know." Aslett stopped walking to look Waits in the eye. "A lot of things happened. It's not something I want to go into with you just yet."

Waits bit his tongue. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I don't want you thinking of me differently."

"I won't."

"Just... give me some time, alright?"

Waits didn't say a word, figuring it was best to let Aslett tell him on her own terms.

* * *

The sun had almost set completely when Waits sat on the bench outside his compartment with a cigarette and glass of hard lemonade. The gentle ambience of vehicles and people coming from the heart of the colony felt somewhat like home. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine a more developed city.

Something moved in the trees near the compartment, and Waits looked over to see something crawling on a thick branch. A creature, roughly the size of a fox, with an antiquated-looking gas mask and black leather clothing, peered out from the leaves at Waits.

Waits tilted his head. The creature did the same. The eyepieces of the gas mask were glowing red, and the glow increased as the sky grew darker. A long, thin tail moved behind it, slowly like calm tides on a shore.

"What?" Waits asked. "You want something?"

The creature didn't respond. It lifted its head, then crawled over to the trunk of the tree. Digging its claws into the bark, it started climbing down. It stood on its back legs, then walked over to where Waits was sitting.

Now that he could see it more clearly, Waits could see a bolt-action rifle was slung over the critter's shoulder. That made him more cautious, but it hadn't made any threatening moves yet. It raised its head again, looking toward the colony and sniffing before turning back to Waits and walking closer.

"Hey, I didn't exactly invite you over here, did I?" Waits set his glass on a table.

The creature chirped at him, then held out its left paw.

"Cute, but I'm not touching you. You're probably covered in fleas. That and all the fucking scientists will have a piss-fit if they find out I touched you without you passing all their damn tests."

Another chirp, followed by a coo.

"What do you want, anyway? Food? I don't have much." Waits stood up, then pointed at the critter. "Stay put."

He raised an eyebrow when the creature nodded, like it understood. As he went into his compartment to search his fridge, he rolled his eyes when he remembered one of the head scientists telling everyone not to feed or interact with any of the local wildlife until they were better understood. Waits wasn't one to care, especially since this little thing didn't seem dangerous. He pulled a variety of food from the refrigerator—a raw porkchop, a small block of Swiss cheese, a couple of carrots, and a chocolate bar—then went back outside to see the creature in the same place it was when he left.

"Alright. I don't know what you like to eat, so, take your pick." Waits set the food in front of the creature.

It studied what was put in front of it before taking off its helmet. Underneath was a furry marten-like head with big ears. Its ears were creamy white, and there was a streak of white down its forehead. Its big eyes were a dark blue, and stared at Waits before dipping its head.

"I'm gonna assume that's a 'thanks' of some kind." Waits sat back down on the bench, then heard the creature chirp. He sighed. "Okay, now what?"

The creature pointed to the porkchop, then reached into one of its pockets to pull out a piece of flint.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, ohh, no, you don't!" Waits stood up, plucking the flint from the creature. "Hey, whaddaya think you're doing? You wanna set fire to my fucking lawn? You want this shit cooked?"

The creature nodded.

Giving an exasperated sigh, Waits picked up the plate. "And next you're gonna want a wine list and a dessert menu."

His new companion followed him over to a small grill, watching with interest as Waits added fresh charcoal and lit the bricks with his lighter. It picked up one of the carrots, sniffing it before taking a bite.

After setting the pork on the grill, Waits looked down at the creature. "So, what exactly do I call you? You got a name? Or is that not a thing with your... people-slash-species."

The creature reached into another pocket, pulling out a flattened flower head. It was a deep red-orange color.

"Hey, that's a zinnia. My mother grew them." A distant memory tugged in Waits's chest as he squatted to get a better look at the flower in the creature's paws. The ache moved up his throat, and his face grew warm as he struggled against tears. "Is that your name? Zinnia?"

The creature nodded.

"Okay." Waits let out his breath. He felt a heavy bubble of emotions swelling in his chest. He hadn't thought much about his family in a long time. Everything had come flooding back in overwhelming force. Not wanting Zinnia to see his sadness, Waits stood up, turning his attention back to the grill. Even that was a source of memories. His father had taught him how to use a grill when he was sixteen.

The last time he saw the rest of his family was at his father's funeral the previous year, a few months before he was sent to LV-112. It wasn't a happy occasion to begin with, but it was also one where he didn't feel welcome. Esmeralda, his sister, had waved him over to sit with her and Micah and Ashton, her husband, in the pew just a couple of rows away from the casket. Their mother was in the first row, dressed in black, not saying a word to anyone except the priest.

The church was warm, and there were box fans everywhere. The older members of the family fanned themselves throughout the service. Waits could remember the sweat and heat and humidity like it was yesterday. He could also remember Micah leaning over to Esmeralda and whispering, "I'm actually surprised Uncle Jethro made it."

"Watch it," Esmeralda said. "He loved your grandfather as much as the rest of us. And he's in his will."

Waits glanced at her. "I'm in the will?"

"Why wouldn't you be? Dad left you money and his guns."

"Wow. I knew I was getting money, but—" Waits gave a nervous laugh, "I didn't know I was getting his guns. All of them?"

"Yes."

"Wait a minute." Ashton turned to face them. "I thought your father was going to let me have the Winchester Model 70. He showed me how to hunt deer with that."

"He did, but since it's not in the will, you can't have it unless Jethro says you can."

"Oh, bullshit, you of all people know as soon as Jethro gets everything, he's going off to another colony, where we won't be able to get in contact with him for several months."

"I wouldn't give you that rifle anyway," Waits muttered.

"I don't care what you think. I was explicitly told by your father that I could have it."

"Why? He told me the same thing."

"Because you're never around."

"Oh, it always circles around back to this shit, huh?"

"You two need to stop." Esmeralda glared at both men. "I'm going by what's in the will. If it says Jethro gets the rifle, then he gets the rifle. I'm sick of you two arguing and treating each other so poorly."

The gathering after the funeral was no better. Waits spent the majority of it looking at the pictures on the posterboards, snapshots of his father's life. He wished he had been able to submit pictures of his own, the photos from their hunting trips came to mind. He wished he had been able to visit more in the twenty years since he became a Marshal. He wished he had been able to say "goodbye."

The same heavy, dull, tight feeling in his stomach that he had the day of the funeral had come back as he finished cooking the meat for the creature. It was a knot of regrets and longing.

Zinnia seemed to sense Waits's sadness. She placed a paw on his leg, prompting Waits to look down at her as she made a soft whining sound.

"I'm alright," Waits said. "Here." He placed the cooked pork on the plate. "Enjoy."

Giving another nod, Zinnia tore a small piece of meat from the bone, and held it out.

Waits shook his head. "No thanks. Not hungry."

He continued to drink his lemonade while Zinnia gnawed on the pork, cheese, and carrots. She cracked open the bone with her teeth, and made the effort to lick out what little marrow was inside.

"You like that, huh," Waits said with a sigh. "I'm glad. Certainly wasn't expecting any company tonight. You've been a decent guest. Just don't tell anyone I said that. And don't show yourself to the damn scientists here. Oh, they'll go nuts that they found a sentient, intelligent species here. They get way too excited about shit like this. I'm convinced they don't have lives outside of work. Then again, neither do I."

Zinnia kept what was left of the bone, putting it in one of her pockets, then hopped up on the bench.

"Now what?" Waits asked. "I've got work in the morning. I need to go to bed."

Making a soft purring sound, Zinnia rubbed her cheek on Waits's shoulder. She looked up at him before putting her head under his arm, resting against his chest. Waits could feel her purring. It was quick and breathy. Zinnia's eyes were closed.

Although he knew he was alone, Waits glanced around to make sure before running his finger along Zinnia's lower jaw. "Okay," he whispered, "I guess we're friends, if that's what you want."

* * *

It was around six in the morning when Waits awoke to hear the usual incessant chorus of birds. Groaning, he sat up, resisting the urge to open the window and swear into the woods.

He put on his uniform and made himself a cup of coffee. As he took a carton of eggs from the fridge, someone knocked on the door. _Who the fuck could it be at this hour?_ He answered the door, and rubbed his face when he saw Aslett in jogging clothes.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! Ready to run?" she asked cheerfully.

"No." Waits was about to close the door, but Aslett grabbed it.

"No? Go get changed and come on. This'll wake you up."

"I haven't had breakfast yet!"

"It'll make breakfast worth it."

"We both have to go to work in less than two hours! I am not jogging today!"

Aslett's smile faded. "Fine. Can I come in?"

Waits grunted. "Sure." He glared at her as she walked in. "What the fuck possessed you to think I'd go jogging with you?"

"It was fun the first time."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

Waits struggled to come up with a response as he cracked an egg into a pan. "Don't expect it to happen again."

Aslett sighed. "Jethro—"

"Don't. And don't tell me I need the exercise, either."

"Fine. Keep your beer gut."

"Hey!"

"Just saying."

"Well, fuck you, too, then!"

Aslett adjusted her bun, giving Waits a chance to cool down and angrily scramble his eggs. "Like Brooks says, nice to see everything's good with you, Jethro."

"And how about you?"

"Oh, I'm good." Aslett glanced at Waits when he turned back to the stove. "I was thinking about what we talked about yesterday. How I said I needed some time before I told you about... what happened with my family." She looked down, biting her lip, then she sighed. "Alright, maybe I'm not."

"Take your time. I'm not gonna push you."

"Yeah, well, I did push my daughter. A lot. I had unrealistically high standards for her. For everything, actually. I didn't let her enjoy her childhood. I didn't let her do what she wanted. I wanted her to be as strong and tough as I was. Put her in every sport she could partake in." Aslett gave a sad sigh. "She hated me. At only seven years old."

"Was that how you were treated as a kid?" Waits asked.

"Yep. I was raised where failure wasn't an option. It was honestly scary to come home after losing the softball finals."

"And... you didn't try to change that."

"I probably could have if I didn't become a Marshal. Everything was discipline, day in and day out." Aslett fell silent. "I think you can imagine that she had that typical teenage rebellion."

"I can."

"Yeah. Her grades fell hard and she was hanging out with the wrong group of people. Then one day, she didn't come home from school. It was a couple of days after she turned eighteen. I called, I searched, I did everything. When I did find her, she was in her own apartment, with two roommates, two young women I'd never met. It turns out this had been planned for a while. They waited until she was a legal adult, so she wouldn't be turned over to me when I found her. There was nothing I could do, and the message was pretty clear that I wasn't wanted."

Waits still listening as he set his breakfast on a plate and dropped the pan in hot soapy water. "You blame yourself for how she turned out," he said.

"I do. I should have been better."

"How'd your husband react?"

"Well," Aslett held up her left hand, "we're no longer together, if that tells you anything."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I kinda brought it on myself."

"No. You've changed. I know you were worried about how I'd think of you when you told me, but this hasn't changed anything. I still like-" Waits stopped himself. _I was about to say I like her. I mean, I do, but... not yet._ "We're still friends."

A weak smile crossed Aslett's face. "Yes. We still are."


	3. Chapter 3

"I have better things to do than stand here and look pretty for these people," Waits grunted through his teeth as a transport's ramp lowered on a platform where he and the rest of the Marshals were standing.

Aslett roughly elbowed him in the stomach. "Shut up before you get in trouble."

A group of well-dressed men and women stepped off the transport. Brooks and Naraleth approached them, extending their hands. Waits struggled to maintain a neutral expression as he listened to their greetings. Only Brooks and Naraleth sounded sincere.

Aslett leaned over to Waits. "They're company higher-ups," she whispered. "Guess they're trying to see if LV-112 was a worthwhile investment."

"Ah, so, Brooks wanted all of us to play bodyguard," Waits muttered.

"Yep. Behave."

A woman who looked more stoic than a USCM drill instructor made eye contact with Naraleth. Her voice was monotonous and impersonal, almost unfriendly. "Administrator, have you been organizing excavations and searching for anything of value? I sent you a message on that over a month ago and heard nothing back."

"That is planned," Naraleth replied. "I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. Most of my time has been dedicated to assisting some of the colonists with their businesses, but we are planning a dig in the mountains in a month."

"Alright. And how have the colonists been doing, economically?"

"Very well. I'm proud of what we've been able to accomplish here."

"I wouldn't jump to that just yet, Administrator."

Naraleth bit his tongue. Brooks spoke up. "I think what the administrator is trying to say is that we've been successful at making LV-112 a good place to live and work."

Waits glanced at Aslett, whispering, "Well, someone's gotten up on the wrong side of the fucking bed."

"Would you shut up, Jethro?" Aslett hissed.

Waits tried not to roll his eyes. "At least I was quiet for five minutes."

"Yeah? Be quiet for five more."

Brooks's eyes settled on the two of them, and made a motion to tell them both to be quiet.

"Is everything alright, Marshal?" The Weyland-Yutani executive looked at him, her expression unchanged.

"Yes, ma'am. Just making sure my men and women are on their best behavior."

The woman looked over at Waits and Aslett. Aslett stared ahead, like a cadet on their first day of training. Waits glared at the woman, prompting Brooks to rub his face in annoyance.

Naraleth cleared his throat. "Miss Stein, if we could move on to the tour of the colony, please."

"Right." Stein continued looking at Waits, then turned to Brooks. "Marshal, if those under your command are completely incapable of keeping their emotions in check, it would be in your best interest to either train them or reassign them."

Brooks sighed. "That is up to my superiors, ma'am, not you."

 _Good boy,_ Waits thought. As the group walked away, he flipped off Stein as soon as her back was to him. "Someone's gotta yank the broomstick outta her ass," he grunted.

"She did lay down a massive amount of funds for this place," Wiecher said from behind them.

Waits turned around. "And where did you come from?"

Wiecher shrugged. "Figured I'd talk to you without everyone else listening. Stein is pretty much Naraleth's boss. Whatever she wants done, it'll get done."

"That's no excuse for her to be an asshole."

"You're one to talk," Aslett muttered.

"Fuck you."

"See?"

Wiecher held up his hands. "Look, my point is, try to behave. You have no idea how much leverage Stein has."

"Oh? And just how much leverage does she have?" asked Waits.

"She was able to keep the Seegson Corporation from building an orbital station here several years ago. That's why they ended up buying Sevastopol Station—it's cheaper and GeoFund was willing to sell anyway."

"What does that have to do with us? Weyland-Yutani has no control over the Marshals."

"No, but she can make life hell for the civilians here if anyone makes this place look bad."

"I know that, and I don't give a shit who they're employed by. If someone's giving them a hard time, I'm putting a stop to it. I really don't fucking care if it's their boss. If she's treating them like crap, I'll kick her ass into orbit."

* * *

A young waiter placed a small basket of bread on the table between Waits and Aslett. The two were sitting next to a window, watching people walking up and down the street. In the distance, construction crews were wrapping up their day on the office building. Waits occasionally glanced out to watch, always anxious someone would fall.

"I could never do that," he said.

"Do what?" Aslett asked.

"Construction. Especially on tall buildings."

"You afraid of heights?"

"Not really, but... kinda."

Aslett gave him a slight smirk. "You're afraid of heights."

"Shut up." Waits took a long drink of his beer. "I'm just glad they started growing hops here."

"Would you take the position if they didn't?"

"I don't even know if I'd have a say in that matter. I've had beer that was just thawed from a spaceship before. If I had to suffer through that for a few more months, I would."

"Yes, and you'd be bitching all the way."

Waits opened his mouth to make a retort, then Aslett held up her hand.

"Don't look now, but Stein just walked in with Naraleth and another exec."

Waits looked over his shoulder, then back at Aslett. "I don't care as long as she doesn't start harassing anyone."

"Jethro, I've seen Brooks's filing cabinet with all the complaints from people about you. I don't think he wants anymore, especially not from someone as high-up as Stein."

"Not like she can do anything other than complain, which she already seems to be good at."

Aslett bit her lip. "Why do you hate her so much anyway?"

"Because I don't like how she treated Brooks and Naraleth this morning. She waltzes down here for no other reason than to tell them they're not up to her standards."

"That's kinda part of her job. What, you thought she was here on a social call?"

"No." Waits glanced over his shoulder again, then lowered his voice. "I also don't like what Wiecher told me, about how she's somehow got the power to influence another company's decisions. I've dealt with enough corporate espionage cases to know what that means."

"You think she's a saboteur of some kind?"

"Possibly. Why her name hasn't cropped up yet, I don't know. Seegson bought Sevastopol three years ago. I should've seen something."

Aslett took a sip of her drink. "Alright, what're you thinking, Jethro?"

"I'm thinking lay low for a little bit. Can't jump to conclusions too quickly. Plus, last thing we want is her catching wind of it."

"Should we tell Brooks?"

"That'd be a good idea."

* * *

Waits returned to his compartment to find Zinnia perched on the bench. She sat up straight when he appeared, extending her nose to catch his scent.

"What? Isn't it a bit late for you to be out? Or are you nocturnal?" Waits rubbed the fur on top of Zinnia's head.

Chirping, Zinnia held up a glass jar of honey. It was small enough to fit in Waits's palm.

"Ah. Is this a thank-you? You didn't have to go to that kinda trouble." Waits tried not to smile at Zinnia's effort, but allowed himself to when he faced the door to unlock it.

He turned around when he heard a voice behind him say, "Are you... actually befriending the local wildlife, Jethro?"

His face flushed red when he turned to see Aslett, and stuffed the honey jar in his pocket so she wouldn't see. "Um, no, not really."

Grinning, Aslett approached Zinnia. "Looks like a big mouse. Kinda cute, actually."

Waits sighed. "Can I ask what you want? I can't think of any reason why you're showing up at my doorstep right before I go to bed."

"I ran into Brooks on my way home from the diner. Told him what we talked about in the diner about Stein. He said we'll have to submit a report back to Earth because we don't have the databases and servers yet for an investigation like this."

"Fuck." Waits bit his tongue, shoulders sagging. "So, we can't do anything here?"

"Not unless you hitch a ride back to Earth. Sorry."

Waits fell silent, disappointment making his chest feel heavy. "Really thought this would be my shot to actually do something here. Instead, I'm gonna be reduced to a damn doorman when Weyland-Yutani gets that fucking office building up, and that's not gonna be for another several months! For fuck's sake, Lace, this place is worse than Deerfield when it comes to nothing to do! I became a Marshal to get away from that, not have it follow me wherever I go! The last thing I need is to be reminded of home!"

"Are you saying you _want_ to be reassigned?"

"I don't know! I want to do something, but I don't want to leave you."

Aslett raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

"What?"

"You said you didn't want to leave me."

"No, I don't. I'm almost fifty and I can't hold friends for shit. What are the odds that I can find someone as stubborn and foul-mouthed and headstrong as I am?"

"I think you could find someone else."

"I don't think I can. You're the only thing around here that doesn't make me think I'm back home. Or make me feel alone."

Aslett held up her hands. "Jethro, put the brakes on and breathe. You're clearly exhausted, so just slow down. Am I really the only reason you don't want to be reassigned?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, no. No. I'm gonna tell you right now that if you're unhappy, go put in a request for reassignment. I've been on LV-112 for almost two years, and I'm used to the boredom. If you're looking for more action, go get it. Don't let me be the reason that you're staying when you're clearly miserable."

"You make it less miserable."

"That's still miserable."

"I worded myself wrong."

"Look, why don't you get some sleep, and explain yourself in the morning? And think about what you're saying. I can't be the reason you want to stay. That's... ridiculous."

"No, it's not. I care about you, and I know damn well I've made your life more exciting since I came here last September. You'd miss me."

"Yeah, I'd miss you, but I care about you, too, and that means letting you go if you hate it here so much."

"I don't hate everything here. I'm not seeking reassignment, even if you tell me to."

Aslett turned, holding up both hands. "Fine! Be miserable, Jethro. It's all you're good at anyways."

Waits glared at her as she left, half-frustrated, half-confused. He wasn't sure if she was trying to tell him to leave. If she was, why?

He looked at the bench, seeing Zinnia had already left. Sighing, Waits entered his compartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

It wasn't easy for Waits to get up early, but he knew he had to if he wanted to catch Aslett on her daily jog. Surely, she would be somewhere in the woods, where they could talk freely.

He downed half a cup of coffee before getting dressed and leaving the compartment, adjusting his belt and making sure his handgun was secure in its holster. Fog had covered the colony, and began fading as he headed onto a trail that gradually increased in elevation.

 _She's gotta be on this trail somewhere._ Waits let out his breath as his mind turned to the idea that she might not have gone running at all that day. Or perhaps she _was_ on a different trail.

As he continued hiking through the woods, he heard footsteps ahead. He expected to see Aslett, but words became stuck in his throat when he saw Stein, dressed more casually than the day before.

"Good morning, Marshal. Wasn't expecting to see you out here," Stein said.

Waits bit his tongue, and tried not to look confused. The somewhat monotonous tone Stein had when talking with Naraleth and Brooks was gone. She sounded... more human. "I'm taking a walk. How about you?"

"Same, actually. This place reminds me of Washington."

"City or state?"

"State. I grew up near the coast. Very green, wet, and quiet." Stein turned to face Waits. "If I may, Marshal, I'd like to apologize for yesterday morning. I know now it was not my place to tell Brooks what to do with his staff."

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to Brooks."

"My comment was partly aimed at you. Since then, I've had a look at your service record, and I'm greatly impressed by it."

Not one to be swayed by compliments, Waits grunted.

"I was also told you're not particularly happy with this place, especially your forthcoming assignment to our headquarters."

"And who told you that?"

"Naraleth."

"It's none of your business, or his, about what makes me happy around here."

Stein folded her arms over her chest. "I could give you a list of more... exciting places. Places you could discuss with your superiors about sending you. Places that seem less like pre-retirement plans. According to your records, you've been avoiding and dodging retirement like the plague, even more so since you injured your back five years ago."

"I made a full recovery." Waits gave Stein a dirty look. "I don't know what the fuck you're playing at with me here, but if you're trying to get me to leave, it's not happening. I was assigned here to LV-112, and I will stay until I'm ordered elsewhere. You have no leverage in that. None. I don't care what you think you can promise me. No amount of money or power or a nicer apartment is gonna make me leave."

Stein tried to smile. "Marshal, I simply offered a list of places that you would find more exciting if you're so bored here."

"Well, I don't want it."

Stein dropped her smile. "I understand. Overall, we did get off on the wrong foot yesterday, and if there's anything I can do to make it up to you—"

"Just don't go around being a negative Nancy to everyone. Naraleth and Brooks have done a damn good job running this place. The last thing they need is someone fucking around."

"I'm doing my job, Marshal, not fucking around. Have a nice day."

Sighing and rolling his eyes as Stein left, Waits shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. If he couldn't do anything about her, there was no point in worrying about her and getting frustrated. He remained focused on finding Aslett.

Waits's thoughts came to a halt when he heard someone running, and Aslett breezed by. A second later, she turned around. "Jethro? What're you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

Sighing, Aslett looked down. "Why?"

"To talk about last night."

"Oh? We did our talking last night. If you want something more exciting, I can't stop you—"

"You're not stopping me, and you're not stopping me from staying, either. That's what I want to talk about. All of sudden, you're pushing me away. You basically told me to pack my shit and leave if I'm so unhappy. I don't care how much you think you're helping by trying to convince me that you're not important, or a valid reason to stay. You are plenty valid. I'd take a fucking bullet for you."

Aslett's gaze softened a little. "Well, I didn't think you cared _that_ much."

"I do. Don't ever underestimate that."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you care that much?"

"I don't know. I've always been that way. There doesn't seem to be a reason. I just care. A lot. So much so that I don't know how to express it." Waits suddenly felt like tearing his own hair out. "Damn it, would you leave if you were in my position?"

Aslett folded her arms over her chest. "What are you trying to say, Jethro?"

"If you wanted to leave, I'd try to talk you out of it because I wouldn't want you to leave."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you don't want to care that much about me! I'd let you down, and I refuse to be the reason you stay, because that means I'm holding you back."

"You're not holding me back! What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of making you unhappy."

"You'd never make me unhappy. In the seven months I've been here, you've brought me nothing but happiness. You're the only person I don't feel perpetually annoyed with."

"I know what you're getting at, Jethro. You're just dancing around saying 'I like you.'"

"Yeah, but—"

"Save it for someone who hasn't completely failed at her own life."

"You haven't failed. Is this about what you told me yesterday morning? I don't think any less of you because of what happened with your daughter."

As though the air had been sucked from the woods, the conversation stopped. Waits struggled to sort his emotions, then took in a breath. "What happened to us being honest with each other?"

Aslett sighed. "Other things got in the way."

Waits nodded. "Yeah."

"I shouldn't have started making shit up. I got scared."

"Scared of making me unhappy?"

"No." Aslett sat under a tree, biting her lip. "Scared of what I felt. Then I got upset over not being able to deal with emotions like a mature adult. Then I came to the conclusion it'd be best not to deal with them at all." She looked up at Waits, eyes filling with tears. "I really was afraid of disappointing you, though."

"How would you disappoint me?"

"By pushing you too hard. I didn't say it at the time, but it hurt when you got angry over being asked to go jogging a couple mornings ago. I felt like I was trying to force you into something you didn't want to do."

"First off, don't feel bad about that morning. I was cranky—"

"You're always cranky, just so you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I didn't blame you. I didn't think that you'd pressure me into doing any and all things I don't like if we were in a relationship. Come on, we're both extremely stubborn. You think I'd let you push me around, or you let me push you around? Absolutely not."

"What's your point, Jethro?"

"My point is we can work together in a relationship. If that's what you were afraid of, there's no need to be afraid anymore."

Aslett shrugged. "Guess it's a good thing I've got no one to write home to. I don't think my family wants to know I'm dating an older man."

"Excuse me? You're forty, honey."

"And which of us is half-a-century old?"

"You're getting there. Give it ten years. Besides, I have about a year before I'm officially fifty."

"You have just now openly admitted to almost being fifty."

"It's a fact, though, no matter how much I wish I could deny it."

Aslett smirked, but that smirk was quick to fade. "So, is this official? Are we declaring ourselves to be a couple?"

"Do you want to be?"

"Honestly, I've been trying to work out how to say how I feel about you. I just didn't realize how complicated it was going to be, despite us both valuing honesty. But I wanted to say more than just 'I like you.' I wanted to tell you how much you mean to me, how much you've... changed my life, in small ways."

Waits sat next to her under the tree, grinning a little. "Tell me."

"You have to promise to keep this between us. I don't need anyone thinking I'm a sap."

"I don't need anyone thinking I'm a sap, either. Your secrets are a hundred percent safe with me."

"Thank you." Aslett drew her legs up, and hugged her knees. Her cheeks reddened. "Wow, I feel like a fucking teenager." She gave a nervous laugh. "Alright, I should probably start with the day you arrived, back in September. Why I remember everything about that day, I don't know, but I remember it was the first really cold day we had since the beginning of April. It was windy, too. You stepped off the transport, the wind took your cap off, and you were swearing up a storm trying to get it back."

Waits snorted. " _That's_ what made you smitten with me?"

"No. I didn't start really liking you until... November. Anyway, you walked into the Bureau, and your first words to me were—"

"'Where is the fucking restroom?'"

"Yep. Then you came back, filled out your paperwork, and finally introduced yourself."

"I didn't tell you much."

"No, but... once things settled down, you were still closed off, and I never saw you outside of work. Then, in November, I ran into you leaving the bar. I half-expected you to be drunk, but you were walking more casually, looking down, hands in your pockets. Frankly, I also expected you to not want company, because I've seen you on lunch breaks. You don't sit with anyone, or talk to anyone, so I was a little surprised when you let me walk with you back to your compartment."

"You didn't start asking a bunch of questions, or act obnoxiously friendly."

"Yeah. It took a little while for you to open up, but when you did, it felt... special."

"It was special, because I normally don't do that. It helped that you're just as brutally honest as me, and you're willing to put up with me."

Aslett nodded. "You're a good person when you're given a chance."

"The fact that you gave me a chance is what led me to start liking you. I know I told you that I made a lot of mistakes in the past as far as women go, so I didn't exactly come here thinking I was going to make any progress in that department."

"I'm trying to get better at giving people chances."

"The fact that you befriended me says you're doing good." Waits looked at her, giving a small smile. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." Aslett grinned at Waits. "So, I take it... we're not gonna change much in how we interact with each other?"

"Probably not." Waits closed his eyes, letting out his breath. He could sense Aslett shifting next to him, then felt her pressing against him.

"This is what we do now, right?" she asked.

"I guess." Waits opened his eyes when he felt Aslett resting her head on his shoulder.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah." It had been a long time since Waits had any physical contact with a woman. He had moments where he wanted to give Aslett a hug, but felt that wouldn't be appropriate. Without looking at her, Waits held out his hand.

Taking it, Aslett looked at him. "I was gonna ask. Thanks."

"No problem." Waits leaned back against the tree. "Actually ran into Stein before you came along."

"How'd that go?"

Waits shrugged. "She offered to give me a list of more 'exciting' places to consider requesting a transfer to until I decide my career is over."

"And?"

"I turned it down. Not even sure why she tried. She told me she wanted to make up for her bad first impression yesterday. Why she thought that was a good apology, I don't know."

"She has no power to do that. You'd have to talk to Command."

"I know, and I'm not going to. I don't want it, and... now that things have changed, I don't want to go anywhere."

"I still don't want to see you miserable." Aslett looked at her hand holding Waits's. "Do you think Stein really looked at your record, or was she trying to butter you up?"

Waits sighed. "She knew about an injury I had five years ago."

"You didn't tell me about being injured."

"I didn't think it was necessary."

"What happened?"

"Car crash. A partner and I were hit by a suspect we thought we lost. My partner got out with a broken leg and lots of bleeding, but I had to be cut out. My ribs were broken, left arm was broken. Worst was my back. A lot of the bones in my back were broken. I was unconscious for a long time, and all the doctors were split on what would become of me. Some thought I wasn't going to survive. Others thought I'd come out paralyzed. I lost count of how many times I was operated on." Waits rubbed his face, suddenly feeling sick with memories. "I was in and out of consciousness. Not sure where I was half the time. Felt... like I was trapped. When I heard them talking about me not being able to return to work, I refused to believe it."

"You were completely broken, and yet you wanted to keep working?"

Waits nodded. "What's the alternative? Go home and deal with my family's bullshit? I couldn't do that. I didn't want to become paralyzed, even if I had no say in that."

"Given that you're walking today, how did you recover? That can't have been easy."

"It wasn't. I needed another operation to correct a vertebra that wasn't healing right. If they hadn't caught it, it would've started putting pressure on my spinal cord, and then I'd be in a lot of trouble. That surgery added a lot of time to my recovery, but I went with it if it meant keeping my job. I fought hard to get back in service while I was recovering. That was harder than the physical therapy and all the pain. I had to convince everyone that I was fine, even myself."

"You weren't."

Waits shook his head. "I prolonged my recovery by five months. I lied to people, which I hate doing. I put myself through excruciating pain. I still have days where getting out of bed is hard because I feel like someone's pulling a rope tightly around my spine."

"All to keep your job."

"It's all I have. With my personality, I'd never be able to hold another job. I'm going to hold on, even if it comes close to killing me."

Aslett gave him a sympathetic look. "You shouldn't have to feel that way. Even I didn't cut corners with my rehab when I was shot a few years ago, and I'm as alone as you." She gave a quiet sigh while massaging Waits's hand. "Can't imagine Stein bringing it up gave you pleasant memories of what happened."

"Somehow, I wasn't bothered by it. Maybe it's because I kept my job in the end. Or it's because I'm reminded of it every time I can't get out of bed. I'm not numb to it, but it doesn't bother me to the point where I'm dwelling on it all the time."

"Still. If you get that badly hurt again, don't skimp on recovery. Your job's not worth it."


End file.
